


Actors, Rednecks, and Saints

by L_Nevada



Category: Actor RPF, Boondock Saints (Movies), Real Person Fiction, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Attempt at Humor, Crossover, Developing Friendships, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Minor Violence, Multiple Crossovers, Shooting Guns, Smoking, Wrestling, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4442351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_Nevada/pseuds/L_Nevada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when the MacManus brothers, the Dixon brothers, and the actors who play them run into each other and begin to rely on each other during the zombie apocalypse?  Multi chapter fic.  Keep an eye out for updates in the future.  Rating may change later on if I get bored.  Enjoy...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saints

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: This was my first multi chapter Fanfiction, so please, bear with me. Also I’m very much not Irish, sorry. Please R&R to let me know what you think. Enjoy…

Actors, Rednecks, and Saints 

 

He was running. Running for his life. 

The sky was dark and he could hear thunder rumbling loudly in the distance. Every few minutes lightning would strike, briefly igniting the sky.  


His mind was blank, he had no memory since he appeared on the black tar of the abandoned city streets. All he remembered was he was looking for someone and he had to run to survive. 

It began to rain and the wind was loud, screaming in his ears. He had been running for what seemed like hours, trying to escape them. They were near; he could hear their moans following closely behind him. 

“I have to find him. Have to warn him.”

He had been running through the streets of South Boston trying to escape these things. These things that wanted him dead. He was trying to get home. Trying to find his brother. 

“I have to find him.” 

By now the sky was charcoal black and he could hardly see five paces ahead of himself as he ran. And he was tired. He was breathing heavily and exhausted from running, but the things chasing him never got tired and never slowed down. So he kept running. 

“I have to find him. I have to protect my brother.”

He turned right on another street, bolting around another corner, and then he could see it. He could see the ratty old apartment building he shared with his twin brother at the end of the next block. He was going to make it! There, he would find his brother safe at home and he could protect him there.

“I have to protect Connor.”

He started running faster, trying to reach home, but it was so dark. He couldn’t properly see where he was running which caused him to trip when stepping up onto the curb. He landed face first connecting with the unforgiving concrete and twisted his right ankle. He couldn’t bring himself to stand and heard them as they drew closer, closing in around him. Then he heard someone begin to scream. It was Connor. They got Connor! 

“No please, not Connor! Connor!”

Murphy turned on his back trying to push himself up and help his brother. But when he turned, he saw them. For the first time since he began running, he saw them. They looked like people, but they weren’t. They were dead. Some looked vaguely like normal people, but others had visible human bite marks and/or scratches on their arms, legs, and/or faces, some were missing limbs, and some even wore their organs like clothes. They were obviously dead, but they were still coming.  
It took less than a minute for the undead things to catch up to him. Half a dozen fell on top of Murphy and he started to scream. He could feel every bite and every scratch as the dead tore into him. He screamed his brother’s name over and over again till his throat hurt, begging for his twin’s help. And Connor answered him. Connor, in turn, screamed for his brother’s help again and again. The last thing Murphy heard were his and his brother’s almost synchronized screams. They cried out for help and when the pain grew too intense they just screamed out in pain. Their screams intertwined, echoing throughout south Boston and filled the empty night sky. Then everything went black. 

 

“….Come on Murphy, wake up. Stop yer screamin’ and wake up. It’s alright yer safe, it’s me, Connor,” Connor sat hovering over Murphy while holding his arms down to keep him from thrashing. “Please Murph, wake up,” Connor all but cooed to his slightly younger brother, trying to wake him.  
“Conn….” Murphy answered, still half asleep.  
“Yes Murph, I’m here. Wake up.” Connor moved off his brother and sat next to him on his own sleeping bag. Murphy sat up as well and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He was back in the two person tent he shared with his brother. “Ye had another nightmare.”  
“Really, ye don’ say.” Murphy replied. His accent thickened due to him just having woken up.  
“Was it Boston?” Connor asked, looking concerned.  
“O’ course it was. When tis it not,” Murphy mumbled. Murphy stood with his back meeting the slanting roof of the tent, grabbed a pair of sweatpants, and stepped out of the fabric building. Connor did the same and followed, sitting in one of the small folding chairs while Murphy crouched next to the fire pit to warm breakfast.  
“Do ye want to talk about it?” Connor asked, watching over Murphy as he searched for a lighter to start a fire. “It’s gettin’ worse; almost every day now. Are ye worried about somethin’?” Murphy wouldn’t look at his brother as he lit the fire and murmured, “It’s nothin’.”  
“We’re safe here Murphy. We got out o’ Boston, we got out of Atlanta, and we’re up here in the mountains. We haven’ seen a walker in weeks. We’re goin’ ta be alrigh’.” Connor tried to reason with his brother.  
“I told ye, tisn’ anythin’ Connor. Tis only a dream.” Murphy leaned over a bag and pulled out two cans of beans, setting them over the low burning fire. “We finished the deer las’ night. We need to go huntin’ tomorrow.”  
“Aye…” And Connor let the dream go.  
XXX  
The two ate their breakfast and went about the rest of their day acting as if nothing had happened. They went down to the end of a river close to their campsite for a few hours and spent the rest of the day running around their small camp site, joking around, and trying to keep each other entertained. By the time they finished eating their dinner the sun had gone down. They were sharing a blanket near the fire talking nonsense and finishing off a package of cigarettes when they heard a girl begin to scream.  
“Connor…” Murphy asked as they both shot up to a sitting position.  
“I know, I hear it,” Connor replied, looking around towards the trees that surrounded them on all sides, trying to pinpoint which direction the scream was coming from. Not ten seconds later they heard more men and women start to scream and gun fire soon followed.  
“Where…” Murphy asked again, starting to panic and looking to his only slightly older brother for answers.  
“I don’ know. Up here surrounded by hills and trees there’s almost no way o’ tellin’,” Connor replied.  
“What should we do?” Murphy jumped to his feet and gave his brother a hand to stand while waiting for his directions.  
“Put out the fire and get into the tent.”  
“What, shouldn’ we pack up and leave?”  
“And go where, into the city? Ye know it’s been over run. Now hurry and get into the tent,” Connor replied as he rolled up the blanket and went to pack their bags if they did in fact need to run. Murphy quickly stomped out the fire and dove into the nearby tent. By the time Connor climbed in and lied down beside his brother roughly ten minutes later the screams and gun shots died off.  
“Well, least they got it back under control, aye?”  
“Or they’re all dead. Conn what if all tha’ noise brings walkers from the city up here,” Murphy asked, not bothering to hide his nervousness.  
“No, I don’ think it will. It sounded like it was a few miles up the river. They won’ bother us even if all tha’ noise does bring ‘em,” Connor answered reassuringly. “Now try to get some sleep Murph. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”  
Murphy just nodded silently, warily, and rolled into his brother, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Connor wrapped a reassuring arm around his brother and the two fell into an uneasy sleep.


	2. Rednecks

Daryl tossed his Styrofoam plate to the side and stood from his seat at one of the picnic tables. He walked around the large group that was seated around the low, but wide spread fire without even sparing a glance in their direction and walked straight for the edge of the campsite. He carefully crawled into the two person tent he shared with his older brother, who was already fast asleep, and tried to fall asleep himself.   
Daryl had just gotten back from a two day hunting trip which involved tracking a large buck for miles through the woods. All he had ended up with was a half a dozen squirrels and a walker opening up his deer. So now, he was pissed off at the world, and himself, and just wanted to sleep. Merle on the other hand wasn’t making it easy with his loud and constant snoring right next to his ear. Daryl couldn’t blame him, or not really. Merle had come back with a small part of the group who had spent all day in Atlanta. Apparently they had gotten trapped in a department store and were lucky to return, yet still had time to steal a car and bring home a stranger. Sure, the new guy happened to help Glenn save the group that had been trapped, including his brother. He also happened to be reunited with his wife, son, and best friend (who just happened to be running the group), which was a good thing, he supposed. But to Daryl, he was just another mouth to feed, another body to protect.   
So all in all, the day was pretty useless and a waste of energy. And yet most of the group was choosing to stay up late, eating all the food they had saved up and what little the group was able to bring back with them from the city. Apparently they were celebrating, and the fact that the group was able to come back safe, and a family was reunited, was worth the waste of food. This of course only added to the noise outside and meant Daryl would have to drag Merle and himself out of bed early in the morning if the group was going to eat tomorrow, at all. Daryl was beyond irritated with his current situation and did the only thing he was capable of doing; rolled over and buried his face deep into his pillow.   
Daryl was just beginning to drift asleep when he suddenly heard something that sounded an awful lot like a girl screaming in pain. Daryl groaned into his pillow. Today was not his day. He sat up and hit Merle in the face with his pillow.  
“The hell is wrong with you man…..” Merle mumbled, still half asleep.   
“Get up and grab your gun,” Daryl replied as he grabbed his crossbow and stuck his head outside the flap of the tent to take a look.  
As they each crawled from their tent, weapons in hand, they were greeted by the sight of people running in circles around the camp. The sound of voices yelling and guns being shot off in ever directions only caused to draw more attention to the clearing in the woods. There were at least two dozen walkers stumbling through the camp and, from where the brothers stood, people were going down just as fast as walkers were being taken out.  
Side by side, the brothers walked further into the camp and started firing off bolts and rounds, putting down any walkers that treaded too close for their liking. They steadily moved towards the RV where Shane and a small group where huddled tightly together.   
As they walked closer, they began to hear what was being discussed, “It’s too late, there’s too many Rick. They’re taking out more of us than we are of them,” Shane yelled loudly over the noise to the new guy standing guard on the opposite side of the group.  
“You’re right, we have to leave. It isn’t safe here anymore,” Rick yelled back in agreement.  
“What about the rest of the group?” Lori asked anxiously, a desperate expression frozen on her face. She was looking out on the camp grounds at large. From her position in front of the RV, she watched as Karen, a women she often washed clothes with down at the lake, was pushed to the ground by a geek who wore only half a face, landing on the ground next to her already dead husband. “We have to at least try to help them.”   
“What about us,” Dale decided to join in, “The camp is completely over run. We have to leave!”  
“We can’t just leave them,” Glenn tried to reason.  
“I don’t see a choice. We can’t save everyone,” Rick stated, clearly through with the conversation.  
“Everyone is runnin’ around panickin’ and we’d just be wastin’ time tryin’ to save people that are already gone,” Daryl added, trying to move things along. “We have to move. Now!”  
“There’s enough room for all of us in the RV. If we leave now we can all survive this,” Shane yelled as he shot two more walkers.  
“Ya’ll get in, we’ll follow you out in my truck,” Daryl stated as he and Merle started moving towards the old, blue and white, beat up, pickup truck.  
“Shane get everyone you can in the RV and be ready to move. Carl stay with your mother. Glenn come help me pack some supplies,” and then Rick and Glenn ran off into the middle of all the panic with Shane yelling after them.   
“Idiots, both of ‘em. We need to leave and they decide to split up in all this confusion to pack some undies,” Merle huffed as he took out another walker with an almost subconscious flick of his trigger finger.  
“Just give ‘em a minute. We’ll be out of here soon,” Daryl said as they continued walking in the direction of their truck.   
But at that moment a small pack of roamers came out from the woods and rounded on them. Daryl and Merle retreated several feet to put space before Merle tripped and fell backwards. “Damn it,” Merle cursed as he hit the ground. Daryl stepped ahead of his older brother to put down the walkers with a sharp swing of his crossbow and a few well timed slashes with his knife, each move he made connecting with a walkers’ head. Once the threat was eliminated he turned around to help his brother up.   
“You ok,” Daryl asked and Merle nodded in response. Once Merle was standing the two turned their attention back to the clearing just in time to see Rick and Glenn dragged to the hard dirt by a couple of geeks and they let out tired sighs. There was nothing that they could do. Daryl turned to see Shane being pulled from behind out of the RV by a walker and that the vehicle had been completely overrun.   
A minute later and the camp became a lot quieter. There were still a few walkers stumbling around the site or leaning over bodies and looking content on staying there. Every member of the group was now either dead or dying. Guns had stopped firing by now and any noise heard after was the soft crying of people still waiting to die as they were being ripped into. The ground was littered with bodies of men, women, and children from the once present and whole group, laying still, and bleeding out. The camp was completely over run in the spam of ten minutes and the brothers were the only people to survive the attack.   
Merle looked over to Daryl, looking more tired than anything, and nodded forward. They began moving slowly through the camp, occasionally putting down both walkers and people. They walked to their tent, each grabbed a bag they kept packed with supplies, Daryl grabbing his own gun which he shoved into the back of his pants, and walked off into the woods, side by side, leaving the camp behind.   
“Well, this place went to hell fast,” Merle remarked very casually.   
“Yep.”


	3. Actors

“Remind me again where we’re going.”  
“Relax Norm. The suns about to set. We can probably stop here for the night.”  
With that, Norman dropped the bag he carried at his feet and immediately lit a cigarette. Sean stopped beside him and sat against a tree facing to face him. Then he began searching through his own bag for food.   
“Really Sean, what are we doing out here,” Norman asked, “We wondered the city streets for weeks since this thing started. Now you decide out of nowhere to come out into the woods. Do we even have a plan?”  
“No idea. It’s not my fault we got stuck in the middle of Georgia when the world turned to shit,” Sean replied. “For now all we can do is keep moving and keep looking for food.”  
Norman was pacing nervously, looking around at the trees, and sucking on his cancer stick. “I know we’re running out of food, but should we just be hanging out in the middle of the woods at night,” Norman asked, looking around at the ten square feet of open space around them that wasn’t completely covered by trees.  
“Got a better idea, I’d like to hear it. We can’t stay in the cities anymore, their packed with zombies. It’s probably safer out here, probably less of ‘em, and we can start huntin’ around here tomorrow,” Sean stated, making his case.   
“Alright. I was just thinking, you know,” Norman caved, finally sitting down and leaning against a tree opposite from Sean.  
“Well that explains why you’ve been actin’ weird today. Stop it, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” Sean joked as he tossed a bottle of water hitting Norman square in the chest. He received a quiet ‘fuck you’ and a small smile for his efforts from Norman.   
“If we eat tonight we’re gonna have to try and start huntin’ tomorrow cause we’ll be ‘bout out of food.”  
“Well, since I’m starving, I think we’re hunting tomorrow,” Norman replied.  
Sean nodded and continued to sift through his backpack. He was able to find a bag of beef jerky and a bag of stale ranch onion chips. Sean sighed with resignation, deciding no more options would appear at the bottom of his pack and present themselves as an offering. Then became mildly depressed at the realization that this was probably the last time he was ever going to eat real food. He opened the bags and set them on the ground between Norman and himself.   
An hour later they had eaten the remainder of their food and now sat in the dark with a small flashlight stuck in an area of soft dirt to give them some light. The nights were slowly beginning to grow colder with each passing day and every few minutes a light breeze was felt, flowing effortlessly between the tall trees. Norman and Sean sat with their legs tangled together with a light blanket from Sean’s bag hiding them from sight. Norman lit another cigarette and blew a smoke ring over the small ray of the flashlight, watching it dissipate. It was a nice, cool evening and the two sat motionless, enjoying the comfortable silence.   
But the silence was soon broken a minute later by a high pitched scream and the two turned to look through the trees behind Norman’s. Soon many more voices joined the first, shortly followed by the sound of gun fire ringing out through the dark. Norman turned back to meet Sean’s gaze and at that moment they had the same thought, ‘What the hell?’  
“Alrigh’, get up. We need to move,” Sean stated without hesitation, then stood to store his blanket. Norman didn’t argue as he put out his cigarette, grabbing the flashlight and his bag off the ground, and waited for Sean to pick a direction. Sean pulled out a flashlight of his own and the two started walking forward, moving at a quicker pace than earlier in the day, through the trees.   
“Well… now what do we do,” Norman asked in a hushed voice.  
“It sounds like it’s a little ways off, maybe across the river,” Sean replied just as softly, referring to the ruckus that had disturbed the peacefulness of the woods. “But let’s go ahead and walk for a few minutes and get a little further up river. We’ll stop for the night then take off first thing in the mornin’.”  
“What do we do about eating?”  
“Hopefully we’ll find somethin’ as we go along,” Sean reassured.   
They continued to walk in silence, each occasionally looking over their shoulder as the noises persisted in the ever growing distance. Then the sounds of terror began to gradually receded to nothing. After ten minutes the woods were silent and still again. The only thing that could be heard now was the sound of wind and the soft crunch of leaves as they continued to move over the forest floor.   
They continued on like this for another half hour before dropping their bags. Each sat against a tree and threaded their long limbs together once more, now for comfort as much as the added heat. Sean pulled his blanket back out of his bag to shield their legs from the environment that consumed them.   
“Hopefully there won’t be any more surprises,” Sean commented, offhandedly.   
“We better try to get some sleep,” was all Norman offered in reply. “Night.”   
“G’night.” Then the rays of their flashlights were extinguished in unison and they were instantly surrounded by darkness.


	4. A Strange Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Notes: The first few chapters were the introductions of our characters. The first chapters, especially the last chapter, were short. The last chapter wasn’t great (sorry), but it was just to introduce Norman and Sean. Hopefully the chapters will begin to get longer (like this one). Thanks to all that are still reading. Remember to leave a comment to let me know how I’m doing so far.  
>  Back story: The idea is that Connor and Murphy’s camp is set up in a clearing at the top of a mountain/hill/thing and is very close to where the river ends. Daryl and Merle are walking up one side of the river and Sean and Norman the other. None of them know that the others exist and they all believe themselves to be alone in the woods.  
>  Now let’s see what happens when they meet……

Connor and Murphy crawled out from their shared tent late the next morning. After having a very restless sleep, waking up often and jumping at even the smallest noises around their campsite, they decided they were obviously not going to get anymore sleep.  
Now they reluctantly exited their tent and walked sluggishly over to the twin folding chairs placed around their fire. The sun was hanging high, it was around noon, and they both raised a hand to shield their eyes from the bright rays as they sat down. Connor leaned in front of his chair and grabbed a lighter, opening another package of cigarettes as he did. He lit the fire and a cigarette for himself, before handing the items over to his brother.  
“Jesus. It’s late,” Murphy noticed as he took the box gratefully and placed a single stick between his lips, lighting it, and taking a long, slow drag. “Do ye know what I miss,” he asked as a way of making conversation. Letting the smoke he had just inhaled pour lazily from his mouth as he spoke.  
Connor grunted lowly in reply, not completely listening to his brother as he continued to rifle through his bag currently propped up against his left leg. Lately they had earned all of their meals by hunting, trying to save up their rations. But Connor thought it best to go ahead and dip into what little was left of their savings. He knew they were both far too tired to hunt on this day.  
“Coffee,” Murphy declared.  
Connor gave a chuckle. “I thought ye were goin’ to say beer,” he commented, talking through his own mouth full of smoke.  
“Well that too. God, what I wouldn’t give for a tall glass of Guiness. But no, right now I need coffee,” Murphy replied, sending a smoke ring to float out in front of him.  
“Why, are you tired…?” Crack!  
Connor stopped his teasing short when he heard the sound of a twig snap beneath a pair of feet from behind them. Silence followed for a few short seconds before two sets of feet could be heard moving heavily over leaves. The sound was close and drawing closer, only a few meters away, slowly but confidently, moving in the direction of the brother’s camp. Connor jumped to his feet and turned to face the trees that were hiding the nearby intruders. He quickly lifting a gun from its holster that was hanging limply on the left side of his chair, and raised it level to his face, ready for the mystery figures to make themselves known. Murphy stood beside him, perfectly mirroring his stance, ready to fire. They waited for a minute, two, and then two large figures stepped out of the woods and into the bright light.

 

XXXXXXXXXX

 

Opening his eyes early the next morning, Daryl pushed his body off the ground where he had slept before the sun had become level with the trees that covered the mountainous terrain around him. He looked over to his still chainsaw snoring brother and decided that it was best not to wake him. Instead he picked up his crossbow and slung it across his back. He turned and started maneuvering through tree trunks, following the sound of running water not three minutes from where the brothers had rested the night before. For a few minutes he just remained still by the water’s edge, watching the clear liquid move calmly, running around and over rocks. The water continued downstream in the same direction the brothers came from after leaving the ruined camp. He splashed the cool water in his face to wake himself completely and continued to sit, listening to the water, enjoying the nice quiet morning.  
When the first rays of sun finally started to show about ten minutes later, Daryl decided to head back before his brother became conscious and came looking for him. When he returned, Merle was waiting for him, leaning against a tree with his bag slung over his shoulder, ready to move on. Daryl grabbed his own bag off the ground without saying a word and the two fell into step beside each other, automatically and subconsciously matching the same pace. They walked in silence for twenty minutes before Daryl decided to break it.  
“So, what’s the plan?”  
“There ain’t one. Not right now anyway,” Merle replied simply.  
“So we’re just walking in a random direction? Just keep moving forward,” Daryl asked, looking sideways at his older brother.  
“For now. Maybe go down to the end of the river. There’s food, water. Might as well go at least that far and put some space between us and that camp, right?”  
“Right,” Daryl answered. Silence encompassed them once more and the brothers continued to walk in silence.  
Less than an hour later and the two came upon the end of the river, only stopping to rest long enough for Daryl to get comfortable by its edge before Merle declared that they would continue to move. Becoming bored at the prospect of having nothing to do and deciding to walk on. And walk on they did, soon moving gradually up hill. Now the sun was sitting high in the sky and it was noon. Daryl looked down at the rope of squirrels he had hanging off his left shoulder. He was able to shoot half a dozen, hardly making an effort to look for a target as he walked throughout the day, and trying even less when it came to picking them off and gathering them from the forest floor once they unwillingly left their trees. Now his prizes were hitting his upper thigh with every step he took and he was going to suggest that he and his brother stop to eat when Merle threw his right hand out in front of Daryl to stop his younger brother from walking. Daryl wondered shortly what had caused his brother to tense before he heard a faint noise coming from less than a dozen meters ahead of them. Merle looked to Daryl and nodded. Daryl wasn’t sure what he was planning to do, but he knew the look. He readied his weapon and began to walk silently alongside his brother. As they grew closer, they realized that what they had heard was the voices of at least two grown men talking and they began to make out their conversation.  
“…Right now I need coffee,” a voice stated.  
“Why are you tired…” a second voice started to say, but was stopped short, because at that moment Daryl stepped on a large twig that snapped in two under his weight. In the stillness of the morning woods the crack of the small branch was amplified and absolute silence followed. Merle turned his head to look over his shoulder at his younger brother and looked as if he could strangle him. He waited a short moment, straightened up, and continues pacing forward, no longer caring if he made any noise. Daryl followed suit.  
Daryl took a deep breath as he and Merle walked out into the clearing, bright sunlight highlighting their forms with weapons raised level to their eyes. Neither knew what to expect, but what the two found were two fully grown men of similar height, dressed identically in torn jeans, black t-shirts with brown beaded necklaces hanging into them, and ragged tennis shoes. They each held a hand gun (silencers attached at the ends) in opposite hands, each had a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and matching bright blue eyes. They had to be related, twins maybe, but not identical. One was blond and the other brunette and their faces looked very different. Or they probably did, when they weren’t wearing identical glares on their faces that promised death if either Dixon made a move either of them didn’t like as they looked toward the pair of men that had entered their camp uninvited.  
Connor and Murphy stood mere meters away from the Dixons, guns drawn, threatening to pull the trigger. But neither made a move to. They quickly looked to each other then back to the intruders and started to size them up as the Dixons had done to them.  
What the McManus brothers witnessed step out of the woods were two fully grown rednecks. They were probably brothers since they had similar blue eyes and identical posture. There was an obvious age difference between them, maybe seven or eight years. One held a simple hand gun and carried a small pocket knife just visible in his jean pocket. The other held a crossbow, had a large buck knife strapped to his hip, and had a rope hanging from his left shoulder with squirrels tied to it by their tails. They were covered in both dirt and blood, from skinning their hunts, killing walkers, or killing other people the McManus brothers could not determine. And yet the two rugged intruders looked perfectly at home in their current state of being, like they belonged in the woods. The Irishmen would have laughed at the almost extreme stereotypical appearance of the men’s’ forms if it wasn’t for the looks they were getting from said intruders.  
The two pairs of brothers remained perfectly still for three long minutes, studying each other, and waiting for someone to make a move that would start something far more violent. And when no one did, Murphy quickly began to feel uneasy and shifted subconsciously on his feet at the same time Daryl turned his head to clear his throat audibly, hoping to break the tension. Connor turned to look at Daryl while Merle turned to look at Murphy. Something clicked at that moment in all their heads as they all looked between the two men in shock and when Merle and Connor made eye contact it was all over. They traded honest smirks than each turned towards their younger sibling with a smile. Someone had to comment on it.  
Connor immediately dropped his arm and started twisting his hand, hitting the gun against his upper thigh as if he were thinking. “Say Murph, are there any more copies of ye running around out here that I should know about,” Connor asked with as serious of a tone as he could use with a question like that.  
With that the spell of still and silence was broken. Murphy dropped his right arm which had been holding his gun and all but fell to the ground laughing. The McManus brothers continued to laugh hysterically and Daryl pulled a frown. He turned to his brother to suggest they sneak off while the idiots where busy falling over themselves and was surprised to find that his brother was laughing as well. It started as a light chuckle, but as he watched the Irish brothers falling over each other, still looking between Murphy and Daryl and making jokes, it became a deep, open laugh. Daryl just rolled his eyes and stood in place, completely uninterested, shouldering his crossbow and waiting for the twins and his brother to stop laughing. ‘So what I looked somewhat like the young Irishman. Is it really cause to have a mental break down when seconds ago we were pointing weapons at each other’s head’s’, Daryl thought silently.  
When he caught his breath a few moments later Merle turned to Daryl with an honest grin.  
“Cheer up son. It looks like I found ya a new play mate,” Merle said, slapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder.  
“Ye got to admit, we look a lot alike,” Murphy added, finally through laughing.  
“Nah man, I don’t see it,” Daryl said as he rolled his eyes and shrugged off Merle’s hand.  
“No, o’ course not. Yer right. Nothin’ similar t’all,” Connor laughed, still trying to recover.  
“Not unless ye count the similar eyes and hair,” Murphy teased, still smiling.  
“Or the height,” Merle pointed out, just to spite his brother.  
“Ye even have the same mark,” Connor realized as he continued to look between the two faces. It was true; each had a small mole on the upper left side of their mouths. If it wasn’t for the fact that there was at least a five year difference between Daryl and Murphy you would have thought that they were twins.  
“Well yeah, but I mean other than that,” Daryl caved, deciding it would end the conversation sooner.  
After that ice breaker Connor and Murphy turned to put away their weapons and sat back down on their chairs. The Dixons slowly walked around to the other side of the fire to face the Irishmen, slightly confused. The McManus brothers had apparently decided the strangers were no threat at all while the Dixons still hadn’t quite decided. Murphy noticed this and decided to change that.  
“What’s yer story,” he asked, looking between the brothers.  
“What.”  
“Who are ye, what are ye doin’ out here,” Connor asked, taking his brother’s lead in starting a conversation. There was a beat of silence where Connor decided to continue sifting through the bag pulled up next to his chair. Murphy was right, they were out of beans. They were actually almost completely out of food and all that left was a bag of beef jerky and some crackers. Glancing towards the younger of the two, Connor was reminded of the squirrels he carried, but decided to wait and see how their current situation was going to play out.  
“Who wants to know,” Merle replied, watching Connor carefully as he looked through his bag.  
“Oh sorry, where am me manners?”  
“Ma would be ashamed,” Connor remarked, smiling sadly.  
Murphy smiled back reassuringly, then replied, “I’m Murphy, the ugly one over there is me Brother, Connor,” Murphy stated with a smirk plastered across his face.  
Connor ignored his younger brother and straightened up waiting for their ‘attackers’ to introduce themselves.  
“Connor and Murphy huh,” Daryl repeated.  
“Aye.”  
“Daryl, the thick one is Merle,” Daryl answered with only a hint of a smile. Merle looked over at his brother, whispering, “The hell is that supposed to mean.”  
“I think he…” Murphy started with a grin, but was shushed by Connor.  
“What was that clover,” Merle asked, slightly annoyed.  
“The hell did ye call me,” Murphy snapped back.  
“Let it go man, we’re just talkin’,” Daryl stepped in trying to keep his brother from starting a fight.  
“No, I want to know what he was going to say.”  
“Guess he meant thick as in daft too,” Murphy sort of whispered to his brother as he tried to suppress a laugh, receiving a disappointed look from Connor. Merle still heard him.  
“The fuck you call me,” Merle shot at Murphy, his voice rising to almost a yell.  
“Relax bro, I started it.”  
“It’s one thing for you to,” Merle stated, annoyed.  
“Murphy had no right,” Connor cut in as he glared at his younger half.  
“Why the hell are ye defending him,” Murphy yelled at his brother, now getting to his feet. Connor stood beside him.  
“Better listen to mommy, clover,” Merle snickered.  
“Drop it Merle,” Daryl warned again, preparing to move between the Irishman and his older brother. ‘Why can’t Merle just have a normal conversation with anyone?’ Daryl thought quietly to himself.  
“The fuck ye say to me,” Murphy turned to now yell at Merle.  
“Alright let’s all just calm the fuck down,” Connor yelled over the gradually growing noise.

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

Norman woke up the next morning to a bright yellow ray of sunlight coming through the leaves of a tree towering over him to his right. It was midmorning, maybe nine when he finally accepted that he was to be conscious. Of course what light was showing would find his face and wake him up. Norman cursed softly. He sat up a little straighter and stretched his arms high over his head, servicing the immediate area around him. ‘Well at least we survived the night’ Norman thought to himself. Then his eyes landed on Sean’s still form.  
Sean had at some point during the night stolen the blanket and had it tucked up to his chin. He was still asleep, his face shadowed in the shade of his own tree, snoring softly. Norman carefully unhooked their ankles then kicked Sean’s foot in an effort to wake him.  
He groaned loudly and covered his face with the blanket, whining, “Maaaa, five more minutes.”  
Norman laughed lightly, kicking him again.  
“What the hell Norm?”  
“Get up. I thought we were going to keep moving today,” Norman replied.  
“Ya couldn’t wait five minutes,” Sean asked annoyed.  
“Stop being lazy and get up,” Norman replied as he stood up himself, shifting back and forth on his feet. “Normally you have to say that to me. Now come on, where are we heading?”  
“I was thinkin’ we could walk down to the end of the river or maybe, if we’re lucky, find a clearing at the top of one of these mountains,” Sean suggested with a shrug of his shoulders as he handed Norman the blanket. “I’m not really sure yet. Let’s just start walkin’ and see what we can find I guess.”  
Norman nodded in agreement as he rolled up the blanket, handing it to Sean after he stood, and watched him pack it. Then they started walking up the side of the river, talking freely.  
Not an hour later and they had passed the end of the river. Norman had suggested they stop to fish and eat, but Sean wanted to keep moving in the hopes of finding a clearing on higher ground. It wasn’t long after that when they were again walking on more level ground, close to the top of one of the many hills covering this area of the Georgia landscape. Norman looked over to Sean to say something, but stopped short when he thought he heard a noise just ahead of them.  
“Sean do you hear that,” Norman asked.  
“Yeah, I hear it,” Sean replied. And with that Sean kept walking towards the peculiar sound, Norman following closely behind him. Curiosity had taken old of them.  
As they got closer they realized the sound had actually been not one, but multiple voices having a discussion. Another ten feet and they discovered the voices were in fact yelling. As they approached the edge of the tree line (which appeared to be leading into a clearing as they had originally hoped for) it sounded as if they were walking into the middle of a drunken bar fight, and could now understand what all the separate voices were saying.  
“Drop it Merle.”  
“The fuck ye say to me?”  
“Alright let’s all just calm the fuck down.”  
“Don’t tell me to calm down.”  
At that moment, Norman and Sean decided to enter the clearing, guns now raised.  
In a total of twenty seconds the group of men arguing ceased their arguing in favor of protecting themselves from a new threat. In the same moment the men turned and raised their weapons (Connor and Murphy pulling theirs from the holsters on their chairs) to their attackers. Silence fell over the mountain once more. No one moved, no one spoke, no one hardly dared to breathe. The two groups stood maybe a few meters from each other in silence, all studying each other, only this time it took the now sizable group a mere fifteen seconds before they realized...  
“What the….”  
“How….”  
“Fuck,” Daryl and Murphy whispered in the same breath. They glared at each other for a moment before turning refocusing their attention to the newest additions to the McManus’ camp grounds.  
The original group of four stood in place, staring at almost exact replicas of both Murphy and Daryl and of Connor.  
After a moment’s pause, “I think I had a nightmare like this once,” Sean began, trying to make a joke. “The last thing the world needed was three of you runnin’ around, huh,” Sean said looking over to Norman.  
Norman didn’t answer; he seemed to be in shock looking across to the center of the camp at his two newly found clones.  
“Like one of ye wasn’t bad enough,” Murphy directed the comment at his brother, catching Sean’s attention. He looked back at the group of men in front of him and locked eyes similar to his own, finding he had a look alike too.  
“This is insane,” Daryl threw in, and Merle simply nodded vaguely. Daryl continued, asking, for if nothing else to fill the loud silence between the groups when anyone stopped talking, “What the hell are the odds of this?”  
A few more seconds passed in silence and now it was just becoming uncomfortable. Connor decided to be the mature one, ‘What could go wrong,’ he thought, and lowered his gun. And Sean decided the same and lowered his in the same moment. They meet each other’s gaze once more then each gave a curt nod of understanding. Then they waited to see what the others would decide for themselves. ‘Hopefully we can all get along’ Sean thought to himself.  
One by one everyone else slowly lowered their weapons, the McManus brothers holstering theirs on their chairs. The group slowly inched closer together, testing the waters. They now formed one group, occasionally making eye contact as they glanced around the circle at each other.  
Murphy was again the one to jump start the conversation. “So……what’s yer story,” he asked, looking between the two new members of the newly formed group. This seemed to catch everyone’s attention, an easy enough question to focus on. So now they all looked to Norman and Sean, waiting for them to speak.  
Sean looked over to Norman; only slightly worried for his friend. He hoped Norman would answer the question since he hadn’t said anything since they came to the clearing and met the group.  
Norman knew this and panicked, “Who wants to know,” is all he could offer.  
Murphy went through the line, “I’m Murphy, me brother Connor,” Connor offered a smile as a hello. “That’s Daryl and his brother Merle,” at least Daryl nodded. Merle was still wary of the whole group and stood like a statue watching everything play out as it was going to in front of him.  
“I’m Norman and that’s Sean,” Norman answered, now recovered. “Hey,” Sean greeted politely. “We were just kind of walking around in the cities for the first couple of weeks of this, you know, looking for somewhere to set up more permanently,” Norman continued, gesturing in front of himself. “We came to Georgia for work for a few days and kind of got stuck out here when all this stuff happened. We’ve just kept moving, ended up coming out here after deciding that the cities were becoming too over run. We were hoping it would be somewhat safer.”  
“Thought it might be better out here. At least be more food, right,” Sean added at the end, wanting to help explain.  
“Same here,” Daryl stated simply. He looked to his brother waiting for him to comment, but he just stood there and continued to look on. Daryl turned back to the group, expecting the Irishmen to take a turn in explaining why they were there. Now everyone was just trying to decide where to go with the situation after the introductions ended.  
“This is our camp; we’ve been set up out here since the beginning. Came down from Boston for a piece of work and got stuck out here when the world went to hell,” Murphy began to explain. This was partly true.  
When word first started about the ‘apocalypse’ it was just rumors in the Northern parts of the world, strange stories from the news. No one knew what to believe. The first encounter the twins had with any zombies was on the night before they came to Georgia. They were walking home late at night from the local bar completely plastered when two came staggering out of an alley that led out of town. The boys had thought they were simple other drunkards as well, until they attacked. Without their guns and being in no condition to fight Connor and Murphy ran to the safety of their fifth story apartment a block away. They now knew the strange stories were true and had no way of handling this new development except to hope it would pass. They were relieved that the very next morning Agent Smecker had an assignment for them that would involve them going down to Georgia. They jumped at the chance to get out of town for a few days and hoped that by the time they returned that things would be back to normal. After they got to Georgia the worst of what was going to happen, hit. It was the end of the world and the brothers grabbed what supplies they needed or could find and ran to the woods, in the hopes that it would be safer. They went back to the city only once three weeks ago to restock their supplies. They had barely made it back with partially refilled bags and their lives.  
“We grabbed what supplies we could from the city and haven’t been back since. No need really we’ve been doin’ fine out here,” Connor finished.  
“What kind of work were you here for,” Merle asked, simply curious.  
“Ancient history,” was the only answer Connor gave.  
“Come on, what is it going to hurt,” Norman pushed.  
The brothers looked at each other for a second. “Our job was to keep people on the right track and to correct them when they strayed from it,” Connor hinted.  
“Priests,” Daryl asked, looking at the hidden necklace in the brother’s shirts and simply venturing a guess.  
“No. God no, nothing that simply, or well,” Murphy interjected, shifting subconsciously on his feet.  
“So what, did you work with the police or something,” Norman asked, just trying to get a straight forward answer.  
“Well not really, although we did work with them often,” Murphy unhelpfully supplied with a knowing smile.  
Sean decided to cut in since they obviously weren’t going to get a real answer. After a slight pause he asked, “So now what?” He didn’t ask anyone in particular, but he had hoped someone would give an answer.  
No one did and the group fell into another awkward silence. But not a minute later and Connor and Murphy had the same idea; deciding there was no longer any danger, they turned on their heels and walked back to their chairs.  
As he sat down Connor looked over at Daryl, “Ye going ta share?”  
Daryl followed the blue eyed gaze that had settled on the long forgot rope of squirrels hanging off his shoulder and suddenly remembered he was hungry. He looked up to see that now the whole group looking down at the squirrels longingly, apparently remembering themselves. Six squirrels, six guys, all hungry. ‘Hell, why not?’ Daryl thought to himself. Then he walked to face opposite of Connor from across the unlit fire and threw him the rope of squirrels, then sat down were he stood. Connor caught it easily with a grin and the twins set to work preparing a late lunch for the newly formed group. The rest eventually came and sat down around the now lit fire waiting to be fed. Slowly they all began to relax, at least to an extent.  
Not twenty minutes later and all six squirrels were hanging over the fire cooking.  
No one had really talked much (nothing to talk about) and so they had all just sat in a comfortable silence waiting for food, slowly getting use to each other’s presence.  
Five minutes later and Murphy decided enough was enough. ‘Healthy or not, I’m starving’, and he reached over to grab his squirrel. This set off a chain reaction and not a minute later they were all happily eating what little meat they had, happy to have any. Connor at some point threw the jerky and crackers into the center of their circle and everyone grabbed their own water.  
Now that they were being fed and a little less tense Murphy decided yet again to try and start a conversation. Compared to the other men sitting at the fire, besides perhaps his brother depending on his mood, he was practically a social butterfly. Besides, the silence was driving him mad. But of course before he was able to say anything the group was interrupted once more.  
About thirty feet away, across the length of the camp, the sound of bushes rustling from something stronger than the average breeze that was currently circulating through the woods was heard.  
“I swear if one of them doesn’t look like you I’ma be pissed,” Daryl groaned looking to Merle as he merely turned on the spot where he was sitting to look behind him. The rest of the group did the same and, looking across the camp past the Irish twins’ tent, they waited for the disturbance to become visible.  
The ‘intruder’ turned out to be a walker stumbling nosily into the clearing. Everyone instinctively tensed upon the sight, their hands itching to grab their weapon of choice, watching nervously as it drew closer.  
Everyone except Murphy. “Relax, I’ve got it,” he said, grabbing a throwing knife out of the side of his bag and with an almost lazy flick of his wrist it landed deep in the walker’s right eye. The impact caused the geek to fall backwards from thirty feet away.  
“Nice one there Murph,” Connor praised as he walked over to retrieve his knife with eyes following him around the camp. He pulled out his knife, straightened up, and took a bow towards his on looking audience before rejoining them.  
“Not bad clover,” Merle mused and he actually meant it as a complement.  
“Thanks Red,” Murphy said with a wink and sat back down. The remark didn’t go on noticed by Merle or his brother, but Merle graciously let it go, a small smile pulling at the sides of his lips.  
And just as Murphy sat back in his seat, just as a conversation began to arise, another walker stumbled into camp. Taking no notice to its fallen brother it had been closely following, but simply ghosting over its body and reaching out towards the still breathing forms resting in front of it. Daryl was first to react this time. He fired a bolt from his crossbow and walked to the edge of the tree line to retrieve it.  
Leaning down to remove his arrow, Daryl stopped abruptly, his blood running cold. As he raised his head to scout ahead of himself he locked eyes with what his well-trained ears had picked out. After leaving the conversation of the group and closing the distance between himself and the ever growing commotion gradually streaming up the side of the over grown hill, Daryl could now hear dozens of pairs of feet and the occasional low groaning of corpses floating towards him through the trees. From his position he could see at least a dozen walkers shuffling through the trees as they moved closer to the camp. “Shit.”  
Daryl stumbled back into the clearing and reloaded his crossbow. “Merle,” he shouted out of instinct to warn his older brother. “Connor, guys,” he called to warn his newly formed group.  
“What do you see,” Merle answered his younger brother, standing and pulling his gun.  
“Walkers,” Daryl shouted, backing up to see that there were far more than twelve ash colored bodies creeping towards him.  
“How many,” Sean questioned, standing and giving Norman a hand up.  
“Too many to deal with,” Daryl replied as he continued his back pedal to where the group was standing as walkers started to pour into the clearing. “It’s like a herd of ‘em. We have to go. Grab what you can,” Daryl instructed as he shot a walker that was beginning to get too close to him. Connor covered him and shot two more, then everyone scrambled for their bags. Now the clearing was flooding with walkers, all stumbling forward and grabbing at the men in front of them. Norman and Sean both got a shot off from behind Merle, but ended up turning first and leading the group down the hill. They were moving as fast as they could, firing shots behind them and putting a few more walkers down. When they got to the bottom they took off at a dead run trying to put as much space as they could between them and the herd. Half the herd was still coming down the hill, the rest now following after the group, some rather quickly but the undead bodies still couldn’t quit keep up. And to make things worse the noise the group had made from unloading their weapons into their enemy was bringing strays from the sides after them as well. So the group continued to run, only stopping once for a few short minutes to catch their breath. They reached the opposite end of the river from where it ended at the bottom of the hill they’d come off of. Once there they all collapsed by the side of the river panting and splashing water in their faces. For now there was enough space between them and the herd that they could stop and rest. After a few minutes of recovery and remembering how to breathe Murphy was the first to speak.  
“Well what the hell are we supposed to do now?”  
“We rest a few minutes and we keep moving. We need to get out of these woods as quickly as we can,” Connor replied as if it were an obvious answer. “That herd is just going ta keep on comin’. Best we continue to move as well. It’s time to move on.”  
“What?”  
“Right, its best we keep movin’,” Sean agreed.  
“Where are we going to go?” Norman asked.  
“Look Leprechaun’s right we can’t stay out here any longer. They’ll catch up to us eventually and we need to keep moving so we can hunker down before night fall,” Merle put in, backing Connor up.  
“We can’t go to Atlanta, it’s over run,” Daryl said just stating a fact and dismissing the option.  
“Daryl’s right it’s not safe in the cities and we don’t have a car. We try to hole up in Atlanta and we’ll get stuck. If we try to walk past it on foot we’ll be stuck out in the open after dark,” Norman explained, hoping shed some light so neither option would be tested.  
“Got a better idea,” Merle asked, completely open for suggestions because soon they would have to decide. None of the men knew when the decision had been made, but it was a clear and simple fact now that they actually were a group and they weren’t splitting up. So they had to come to a decision, fast.  
“Come on Norm, its best if we just keep movin’,” Sean tried to both reason and reassure his best friend, hoping he would agree.  
Eventually the group mutually decided that it was best to travel on to someplace else. Taking a final drink from the river, each securing their bags on their shoulders, they started walking in the general direction of Atlanta. It was around three in the afternoon and they had a long walk back to city. Plenty of time to figure out what exactly they were going to do before night fall.


	5. False Security

(Four weeks later…..)

 

“I can’t believe we’re already out of gas,” Merle exclaimed as he kicked the front tire on the driver’s side of the car out of frustration. 

“I told ye ta stop to scavenge cars before turning off the highway,” Murphy stated. “How far did ye think we were goin’ ta get on a single tank of gas?”

It has been a month since the group escaped what remained of Atlanta Georgia. Four weeks ago the group of six had walked to Atlanta from the ruins of what had been their camp before sunset. They broke into a convenient store (filling a few backpacks they found with water bottles, cigarettes, lighters, two six packs of beer, crackers, chips, and canned beans), stole a Chevy Suburban, and followed a few small off roads to avoid being mauled on the concrete streets of the large, heavily populated city. Since then, they had only stopped at night to sleep and had planned to drive east out of Georgia, through South Carolina, and head for the coast. Now they are stranded in North Carolina with an empty car and no fuel to carry them into the next town. It was an easily made decision to continue north once they touched the blue waves of the Pacific and it was on another supply run, driving between towns and trying to find the coast once again, when Merle took a wrong turn off the highway. They’re now standing on the side of a road easily seven miles from the nearest gas station and ten from the nearest town with an hour till sun down and not even a tree for cover. 

Now the group stood around the car, glaring at it in distaste. 

“I thought it would at least get us out of town and back to the water,” Merle spoke up, speaking mostly to himself. “It ain’t like we’re that far off.”

“Are ya kidding? It’ll take at least a day if not two to walk back from here,” Sean spoke up, now regretting having suggested to travel so far inland for better supplies, “Not to mention how long it would take us to walk into the next state.”

“No, we’ll find a car ‘fore we reach Virginia,” Murphy stated as he looked ahead of the vehicle at the empty road and barren fields on either side which lay ahead of them, “Though I’m don’t fancy the journey.”

“Looks like we’re gonna be here awhile,” stated Norman, walking around to the back of the car to begin unloading the bags. “Let’s set up for the night.”

Within fifteen minutes the group had set their bags down in a pile and had started a fire between two small trees about thirty meters from the road. Connor pulled out a few cans from one of the bags and went to sit in front of the low burning fire to start warming the equivalent of dinner. Norman and Sean sat across the fire from Connor, patiently awaiting food, and Merle sat against the tree to his left. Murphy stood leaning against the tree to his right and pulled out a package of cigarettes from his back pocket, in desperate need of one. Daryl was standing by Murphy’s right side and reached his arm out, tapping Murphy’s left forearm. Murphy allowed Daryl to take one out of the package, then, after lighting his own, he lit Daryl’s for him without needing to be asked. Daryl leaning forward a mere inch for the tip of his cigarette to touch the offered flame. After camping and being stuck in a car together for four weeks the group had become pretty comfortable with each other; they had a good idea of the type of people they were now stuck with and knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses. 

The group was made up of decent men, with short tempers, good instincts, and great senses of humor, all coming from completely different backgrounds.  
Norman and Sean were more city boys, working in the filming industry (at this time, early in their careers and hardly known). They had met each other in an audition and became best friends, but the film didn’t get very far and now wouldn’t since the apocalypse had taken over. They had got stuck in Georgia while promoting the movie and were just scrapping by when they meet the group. Sean was from Texas and studied a Brazilian fighting style before the outbreak. Norman had been living in New York and was an artist. They are both trained to use guns.  
Daryl and Merle grew up in the woods of Georgia and had learned how to hunt, fish, etc. and each know how to survive alone in the woods. They can both use guns, are quick with knives, and Daryl is good with a crossbow. They had spent most of their childhood in the woods to stay away from their abusive father, especially after their mother died in a house fire. Daryl spent most of his free time out in the woods alone when Merle wasn’t around and after he left home.

Connor and Murphy grew up in Ireland with their mother, their father having walked out when they were babies. They were close ever since they were little and spent most of their time alone because their mom had to work odd hours to keep them going. When they got older, they worked odd jobs, mostly on farms, for extra money. They left Ireland and moved to Boston together in their twenties after saving enough money and still to this day have never been separate for more than five hours; it was rare and strange to see one without the other. Connor had eventually taught himself to trap and snare and Murphy had picked up on using throwing knives, they both can use guns. 

After the first week of camping together, after everyone had their beers and begun to relax, each pair took turns telling their stories in full (with Connor and Murphy going first). The brothers also told the group about their work back in Boston after being asked again. After hearing everyone’s stories the group got a better understanding of each other and the twins actually earned even more respect for their work because the rest of the group understood and even believed in what they had been doing, whether it was considered wrong at the time or not. Norman, Sean, and the Dixon’s told there short pieces as well and, though it wasn’t discussed, the group suspected the Dixon’s had come from an abusive background and always gave them space when it was needed. After that night the group had become relatively close and now had a mutual understanding of each other. 

As odd as they all were, they worked together well and trusted each other almost completely. That trust had been earned from being attacked twice while on the road during that week from small groups of walkers. The group had helped each other, not only protecting their brothers or friends, but each other as a unit. The group didn’t spend all their time talking, but when they did find themselves talking it was always mildly pleasant and even fun conversation and they helped to keep each other entertained. Connor and Murphy were always the most active and tried to keep the mood as light as possible considering their situation. At night when the group stopped to camp the twins would wonder off on their own in search of entertainment and would usually end up playing some simple minded game. They’d quietly invite the other members along, but they wouldn’t be surprised when they were turned down equally as quietly and they would simply turn their backs on the other men stationed around the low burning fire and run off into the dark to play as if they were kids on a farm in Ireland again. But it was only after the first week when Sean and Norman began to take the younger members up on their offer and after two days they were just as eager as the McManus brothers to join in on the fun. Even Daryl and Merle had gotten bored enough just last week and slowly, tentatively joined in on their games, kicking around big rocks, throwing knives, and running around to blow off steam before the group of rowdy men would turn in for the night. 

Now the group sat close together around the fire as the sun disappeared behind their car and the stars came out to shine brightly overhead. Daryl had gone and sat down by his brother and Murphy followed him, having Connor move over and to sit between the two. Sean sat to the right of Connor and Norman sat between Sean and Merle. Everyone was smoking, except for Sean, and a large can of beans sat between every two people. They sat there in their group for hours after sunset that night talking, smoking, eating, and laughing freely like they hadn’t since the end of the world had begun. They were a strange looking group, as anyone could see just by looking at them, but they got along well and enjoyed each other’s company. They were happy to be in their group, better than being alone or with just one other person; it would prove to keep them sane. As the fire started to burn out Norman stood up and walked over to the large pile of bags and dug out everyone’s blanket, tossing them to their owner (winter was now fully setting in and they were now needed). That night the group slept peacefully without a single disturbance and slept late into the following morning. It was a beautifully clear, cool, and quiet evening and it seemed that everything, for once, was going right for the group.

And that’s exactly when everything went wrong……

It is now ten o’clock in the morning and sun is shining brightly over the still sleeping group. At this moment it is quiet, still. But that will all soon change and the air around them will be filled with screams and gun fire. 


	6. Movement on the horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back Ground: I don’t know if you can tell, but I don’t know the geography of Georgia which is what I’m using as my setting, I’m just writing.  
> Author’s Notes: I apologize for the lack of updates, but now that school is out for the year I’ll be able to complete this story and move on to other writing projects. Thank you to all that are still reading, I hope you’re enjoying the story so far. Remember to review if you haven’t already, I love the feedback. I love seeing new comments pop up. It keeps me writing.   
>  Warning: Slightly graphic scenes  
>  Now back to your (not so) regularly scheduled update…..

The first thing he was aware of when he woke up was that someone was grabbing at his arm.   
Merle had fallen asleep last night with a blanket thrown over his legs, leaning against a thinly worn tree. He had slept soundly through the night and was now being pulled from his sleep, very reluctant to do so. He groaned in annoyance and tried to wake up enough to tell Daryl to go back to sleep, thinking it was his younger brother trying to arouse him.   
The second thing he was aware of when he woke up was a sharp pain shooting up his right arm starting at the wrist. Now Merle was fully awake because it was only a second later that he realized that a pair teeth were the cause and he began to scream. Reaching for the gun that was lying at his feet, he turned to bash in the head of the walker that had a vice grip on his arm. Blood was everywhere, but Merle was running on pure adrenaline and kept swinging, afraid to lose the adrenaline rush and have the pain of the bite take over.   
Now the rest of the group was awake. Merle was vaguely aware of his brother yelling to grab his attention and almost begging him to stop, but he continued to smash his gun into what was left of the walker’s time-weakened skull. 

XXX  
Daryl woke with a start and bolted up to a sitting position when he heard his brother’s rough scream. He instinctively reached for his crossbow and gun lying behind him and quickly turned back to look at the make shift camp. The rest of the group was also waking up or standing at the sound of Merle’s scream and was now looking around trying to assess the situation as well. But all Daryl could focus on was the huge herd of walkers stumbling towards the camp and his brother leaning on his bleeding hand for support as he rammed his gun into the head of the walker that had presumably bitten him.   
Daryl seemed to glide as he moved to kneel at his brother's side. He pulled his gun and shot two walkers at point blank range that had been reaching for him before focusing all of his attention on Merle. He tried to get gain Merle's attention, yelling at him to stop so that they could fix his hand.  
Daryl had to sit and watch as Merle finished off the walker’s head with the butt of his gun. Eventually Merle stopped and tried to control his breathing as he slowly turned to his brother. His face was turning pale and he looked like his was about to go into shock.  
XXX  
Murphy hadn’t had a single nightmare since being with the group and last night was no different. Murphy had been the last to fall asleep last night, watching the fire burn out and the sound of snoring gradually began to fill his ears.   
Now he was startled awake when he heard a scream coming from under the nearby tree soon followed by the sound of gun fire. He sat up and looked to his right where his brother had woken up beside him. Connor was looking past Murphy after realizing he wasn’t the one hurt and had a shocked expression on his face. Murphy turned to look in the same direction and was suddenly plunged into one of his nightmares.   
A massive horde of walkers in various states of decay was ambling towards his groups camp. Merle’s hand was bleeding and he was leaning over a walker beating the absolute shit out of it. Daryl moved next to his brother trying to calm him. In less than a minute Sean and Norman pushed off the ground and ran around the tree the Dixon’s were occupying to begin shooting the leading walkers that were getting too close to the camp. In a matter of seconds everyone was screaming at each other over the erratic gun fire and Merle was covered in blood up to his elbows. Without much conscious thought, Connor pulled Murphy off of the grass by his armpits and the two ran to help Norman and Sean.   
XXX  
Connor had always been a light sleeper ever since he was little. He would always be the one to wake up in the middle of the night to take care of his little brother when he woke up after a bad dream or was sick. Once the dead began walking the earth he became accustomed to waking up to small noises, then watching over his brother until he again fell into a shallow sleep. He was a great hunter; he always seemed to know where the animals were no matter how quietly they moved. So of course Connor was shocked that it was Merle’s scream he was awoken by; that he didn’t wake up to the sound of three hundred plus walkers trudging towards their small camp.   
He looked past his younger brother, relieved he wasn’t the one hurt, and watched as Merle created a crater in a zombie's face. Apparently he had been bit. Daryl had knelt down by his side after putting a couple of geeks down and was now yelling over him, trying to get him to stop. Connor turned his head at the sound of more gun fire and watched as Norman and Sean ran in front of the brothers to start firing off rounds as walkers started to draw in on the circle.   
A moment longer than what is normally needed to gather his thoughts and Connor picked up his brother. Each grabbed their guns and Connor pushed his twin over to help the men who formed a human barrier before he realized Norman was trying to get his attention.  
Norman was yelling over his shoulder, “Connor, my bag." BANG! "Hand it to Daryl.”  
Connor had missed the conversation, but immediately did as he was told. He ran back into the camp circle, towards the pile of bags, and dug out Norman’s personal pack. Murphy had run to the front line to help Norman and Sean and Connor took Daryl the bag and knelt beside him, waiting to offer more help. He watched as Daryl shifted a few things in the bag. Merle had moved off the walker and moved to lie down on his back, he looked as pale as a sheet and as if he was trying to force himself to relax. Daryl pulled out a small hatchet and looked to Connor with a solemn expression before facing his older brother.  
XXX  
Norman’s eyes shot open when he heard a rough scream coming from the person who had been sleeping only two feet away. Before he had time to react he was being pulled to his feet and Sean was directly in his face.  
“Merle is hurt and we have to stall for time.”  
Norman wanted to ask what was happening, but then his question was answered when Sean pulled his gun and shot off two rounds over Norman’s right shoulder. He was then pulled out of the camps circle and he was now the only thing standing between it and a huge herd of zombies.   
Sean handed Norman his own gun and an extra clip, “Ready?” he asked. He was wearing a smile on his face.  
Norman smiled back with a nod of confirmation and they turned to started firing into the crowd.   
XXX  
“Merle, snap out of it,” Daryl was yelling in his brother’s face now.  
Merle turned to face him with a feeling of faint.   
“Merle, come on man, I need your help here. What do ya want me to do,” Daryl asked, suddenly a lot softer as he looked down at his brother’s bleeding hand.   
Merle watched as Norman and Sean sprinted across the short distance of the camp and around him to face the herd head on.  
“We don’t have a lot of time, but ya gonna have to hack it off before we move,” he replied, going even whiter as he registered what he had just told his younger brother to do, but it had to be done if he was going to survive to face another herd.  
“What no, we can’t, we can’t do it here,” Daryl began to panic too and he was talking fast. “Ya need to get up, we need to move, put some space between us and that herd. You can’t be bleeding out while we’re on the run.”  
“I’m already bleeding out, there’s a hole in my arm. Don’t argue with me Daryl, we don’t have the time and we can’t wait till after. You have to do it now!”  
“Fine,” Daryl agreed reluctantly, “Do we have anything to cut it with, do we have bandages, you can’t just bleed out for ten miles back to the city.”  
“Ask Norman, I think he has something,” Merle suggested, now holding his arm trying to slow the blood flow.  
“Norman……”  
The conversation had all together lasted less than three minutes and now Daryl held a small hatchet raised in his right hand. Merle was lying in front of him trying to regulate his breathing and Connor was kneeling beside him. Norman, Sean and Murphy were still firing at walkers in the back ground and were yelling to move things along.   
Daryl drew in a deep breath……  
And the hatchet came down hard just above the bite mark on Merle’s wrist. Merle screamed out in pain and doubled forward cursing, but didn’t dare to move his arm. Connor turned his face to look away. He dug the bandages out of the bag and placed them at Daryl's leg. Then he stood and went to stand in line beside Norman, firing off his own rounds. Daryl brought the hatchet back down and blood hit him in the face. He listened to his brother scream and curse as he quickly wrapped up his cleanly cut, freely bleeding wrist as tightly and neatly as he could. He helped Merle stand and told him to keep pressure on it.   
Norman and Sean were now out of ammo and began to back into the camp towards their bags to hopefully find more ammo. Connor kept firing, but would soon be out himself.   
The herd wasn’t thinning at all and the guys had hardly made a dent. The walkers began to close in on the camp.  
“Leprechaun,” Merle was the first to call, trying to get Connor’s attention and ignore the pain of his amputated wrist.   
Connor turned to see that the group had grabbed up all the bags and had them slung on their backs. They were now walking towards the road, guns reloaded in hand, all except for Merle who was holding his hand trying to stop the bleeding. They were waiting to run until Connor joined them.   
Walkers were now right on top of Connor as he slowly backed away; they were closing in on the camp and were either reaching for Connor or walking blindly past him towards the fleeing group.  
Connor put down two more walkers, now out of bullets, and took off at a run towards the group. Daryl and Sean covered him as he ran to catch up. He caught up easily, took a bag off of Merle to lighten his load, and the group began to run as fast as they could with Merle bringing up the rear at a slightly slower speed, but managing to stay with the group.   
They didn’t run as long as they did a few days ago. Merle would have to stop more often now with his injury. They could never stop and walk for long, the herd continued to follow the road trying to catch up to the group. The group had at first ran as fast as they could for about twenty minutes, then stopped to walk for a short minute or two, then would repeat this cycle, trying to put as much space as they could between them and the herd.   
After the first three miles, the group was moving quickly enough and put a good four hundred or more meters between them and the herd. Merle was holding up well, though they still had the huge herd in their sight, a glimpse in the distance of the still moving herd against the horizon as a constant reminder.   
After the next three miles of the same continuous routine of running and walking the herd was now out of sight, but the group was tired and more than ready to rest. Now they were stopping to walk more often than to run, and not just for Merle.  
Merle tried to sit down for a few minutes, what adrenaline he had when they left the camp had left him when he lost sight of the group of geeks trudging after them.  
“Nuh uh. We can’t stop yet,” Daryl said as he handed him another bottle of water from a bag he was carrying.  
“Not till we’re back in the city Red,” stated Murphy with a smile. He was panting slightly from the last two or more hours of constant movement and took a drink from his own bottle.   
“Aye,” his brother replied stealing the bottle from his younger half who was mid gulp and downed the last of it in one go. Sighing with relief and exhaustion, he continued, “You and hillbilly need to try to keep up. Come on let’s move.”   
The Dixon’s openly smiled at the nicknames they’d been given in return for leprechaun and clover. They had to put up with them regardless.   
Daryl patted Merle on the back and Merle nodded that he was ok to keep moving.  
Daryl walked ahead of him. “Ready leprechaun?”  
“You’re on old man,” Connor replied with a grin and the two took off at a run, passing Norman and Sean who had been in the lead. “Hey Sean, Norman you’re fallin’ behind,” Daryl threw over his shoulder and the two took off after them.   
“Wanna race Merle,” Murphy asked, turning back to face him. He looked like an energetic kid ready to play a game.  
“You’re on kid,” Merle replied with a smile and took off at a mere jog, Murphy let him gain a few steps before catching up easily and running alongside him.  
By now the group had stowed their weapons and even though Merle’s hand was in a constant state of throbbing pain, the bleeding had slowed down immensely within the last hour and he could now use his arms. So now they all had free movement, except for being weighed down a little by the bags they carried, and they were running till their lungs gave out.   
After the end of the next three miles of playing chase, the group was collectively thinking that they could all just lay down and wait for the herd to come and put them out of their misery.   
“As much fun as I have had today, and don’t get me wrong it’s been fun, probably more than it should have been, but how much further do we have to go?” Norman asked, making an attempt at being sarcastic through gasps of air. Sweat was pouring down his face and he ran the back of a tattooed hand across his forehead. “I mean we’ve been running for hours.”  
It was about four thirty in the evening and there was still about a mile to go till they reached the nearest town (they decided to pass the gas station and go on to the nearest town). There was a little over a mile between them and the herd, so the group wasn’t concerned about being caught anytime soon. But they had been running and walking for around four hours were collectively prepared to drop.   
Everyone was walking with their heads down, water in hand, pulling as much air into their chests as their lungs could hold.   
“’Bout another mile Norm, hang in there,” Sean answered, bumping their shoulders together as they walked. Five minutes later the group took off at a trot.  
When they reached the town about twenty minutes later the group couldn’t have been more relieved. They walked straight into the first building they saw, which ironically happened to be a small gas station sitting at the front of the town, and they all collapsed to the floor between the first two aisles. Connor and Murphy were the first ones in; they ran into the town and straight through the door, collapsing to the floor while the remaining men dragged in behind them.   
The gas station was dark except for where sunlight was coming in through the windows. The place had been looted several times over and the shelves were almost completely empty. It was a small building, only five rows of shelves and two cash registers. The boys were alone. They stretched out along the aisle they had claimed and ended up taking up the whole row.   
Norman was sitting in the corner, leaning against the back wall of shelves facing the registers and, after catching his breath, pulled out a much needed cigarette. Sean was lying next to him, his feet sticking out slightly into the next aisle. Connor and Murphy were lying with their chests to the floor and heads together against the left side of the aisle panting heavily, and Merle was lying flat on his back against the right. He was breathing heavily and finishing off the last of his water. He was holding his hand on his chest, thankful that the bleeding had completely stopped around an hour earlier. He was wondering if he should cauterize the wound and if he would be able to find any kind of pain killers while the group was in the town. Daryl sat beside him leaning against the shelves, facing the only door to the building, with his eyes closed and he was breathing deeply. The bags were lying in a pile in front of the door, completely forgotten.   
As the group began to relax and catch their individual breaths, the building grew quiet. Norman finished his cigarette, putting it out on an empty shelf, and closed his eyes as well. After a long day of running they were all exhausted. One by one they all fell into a heavy sleep. 

 

XXXXX

Daryl woke up about two hours later feeling much better than when he had fallen asleep. It was around seven, the sun would be down within the hour, and the light was steadily beginning to fade. He knew it was dangerous to fall asleep where they had, they weren’t in the safest of buildings and, as far as they knew, they still had a herd of walkers on their tails.   
Daryl stretched a little in his sitting position and then looked down the aisle. Everyone else was still asleep, snoring softly. ‘Well, it looks like we're all still here. Guess we’re okay', he thought silently.   
Or that’s what he had assumed.   
Now that he was rested and awake, his senses came back to him in full. He heard a strange and almost constant noise coming from just outside the small building and he immediately froze. He was positioned closest to the doors and he slowly looked towards the glass.   
What he saw made his blood run cold. The herd had apparently caught up to the group during their little nap and was now shuffling past the building. None of the walkers had yet to either notice and/or act upon seeing Daryl sitting at the end of the aisle or the sound of snoring coming from inside the building, if any could hear it.   
Daryl shifted ever so slightly and carefully closer to his brother and hit him on the leg just outside of the door windows view. Merle sat up to yell at his brother, but immediately went still, because in his peripherally vision he saw dark figures ambling past the duel glass doors. Since he couldn’t be seen through the door he carefully slid backwards across the floor towards Sean. He shook his arm for a few seconds and then Sean sat up looking very unhappy.  
“What the hell do ya want,” Sean asked, slightly irritated from being woken up.  
Merle answered with a finger from his non-dominant hand to the lips and nodded towards the door. Sean leaned forward, looking passed Merle, and could just get a glimpse of slow moving bodies passing by the front door of the gas station. He nodded in silent understanding and turned to wake up Norman.  
A few moments later and everyone was now wide awake. They were sitting up alert, tense and just waiting for the herd to realize where they were hiding. Daryl was keeping watch of the door. He sat looking like a statue, he hadn’t moved since he woke Merle and it looked as if he wasn’t even breathing. Norman had carefully stood up and was now looking over the aisle at the parade that was nosily passing him. He was watching as walkers moved down the street slowly, slower than they had been at the camp, as if they had given up finding the group and were now just walking aimlessly.   
About ten minutes later and almost all the walkers had gone pass the gas station. Daryl shifted slightly, and then stood to walk completely out of sight from the door.   
Murphy was the first to look up from the floor and whisper, “Are they gone?”  
“Most of them have moved down the street,” was his reply.  
“Now what,” Sean asked. This seemed to be the popular question among the group. Two simply words that were always used to start a conversation or plan.  
“We find a car and keep movin’,” Merle answered.  
“Head to the coast like we were talking about,” Norman continued.  
“Where do ye suppose we get a car,” Connor asked.  
“There’s a truck sittin’ at the end of that street,” Daryl said pointing across the road and down a street several meters away.   
Everyone but Merle stood up and looked outside to see a small two passenger, light blue truck sitting at the end of a street that a few stray walkers were limping past.  
Murphy looked down the street they were sitting on towards the large herd. “Are we goin’ to hope that the truck starts before the herd has time ta turn 'round?”  
“Me and Merle will jump in the cab and get it runnin’. The rest of ya just need to jump in the bed and we’ll be out in two minutes flat and be headin’ back towards the coast leavin' the herd in the dust,” Daryl spit out a plan like he had it made an hour ago.   
“Ya had that thought up since ya woke us up, haven’t ya,” Sean asked the obvious.  
“Quickest and best way to get out of here,” was his answer. "Unless you were wantin' waste more energy to run into the next town over."  
“Alright let’s move,” Merle agreed and stood to start towards the door. The rest of the group followed.  
Everyone grabbed their bags and pulled a gun except for Daryl and Merle and they all ran out the front door.  
Running through a few walkers who were straggling behind the main horde, the group ran across the street and down two blocks to the truck. Daryl and Merle climbed in the cab, throwing the bags they carried into the back, and immediately started trying to hotwire the car while everyone else jumped into the bed, dropping their bags and pointed their guns toward the street the walkers were now turning around on due to the attention the humans had drawn.   
The herd turned around after seeing the group run from the gas station and was now turning left down the street towards the truck. Merle was currently leaning over Daryl who was sitting in the driver’s seat as they both pulled out wires furiously trying to get the old, ragged truck to run.   
As the herd began to get closer the guys in the bed began firing off rounds while beating on the back window with their knees every few seconds to warn the brothers inside. As the herd reached the truck they started scratching at the hood and walking around to claw at the windows or reach into the bed.   
By the time Daryl and Merle got the truck to start and Daryl started to pull the truck away (running over a fair number of walkers in the process), the group in the bed was out of bullets and kicking walkers back away from the truck. Connor stood beside Murphy and they were back to back with Sean and Norman in the middle of the truck. At one point, a walker started to climb into the bed and Sean kicked it back into the crowd, losing his balance, and falling backwards into Connor. Connor fell forward and was meet by multiple pairs of dead, pale, and blood covered hands. The truck started to pull away as Murphy pulled his brother back into the truck while Norman and Sean were pulling the undead bodies off of him. Thankfully no one was hurt during the scrapping and once they were out of range of the walkers they all sat on the edge of the truck bed to breathe. Connor and Murphy sat facing the cab with their ankles crossed in front of them, leaning against the tailgate. Norman and Sean each took a side leaning against the cab and each had a leg thrown over the side, the other was resting bent on the edge lining the bed of the truck.  
Daryl drove past the gas station they had rested in and back down the long road that the group had come from. He knocked on the window behind him and Sean answered by opening the window.  
Daryl asked, “Everyone alrigh’?” after seeing the short struggle as he pulled the truck away.  
“Yeah, we got it back under control,” Sean answered reassuringly.  
“No one hurt,” Merle also asked, making an effort to only sound slightly concerned.   
“No we’re fine. Nothing to worry about,” Norman answered.   
They left the window open after that, but the rest of the trip passed in mute silence.   
Thankful for the full tank of gas the group left the herd behind and passed their make shift camp on the side of the road. They continued to drive through the next town they came to (the town from which the herd had come from).   
By now the sun had set and they decided to stop outside a small house on the outside of the town and each climbed out of the truck with all their belongings to hole up for the night.


	7. Ending with Hope

The building the group had stopped at to stay in was a small one story building with a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a single large sitting room. It was a small, average looking house. It was quiet and dark in the building, even during the day. The house was full of furniture, so the group could spread out on the living room furniture, and empty of food, which is par for the course. But since the house was empty of blood, bodies and people, the house was considerably nice, compared to most nowadays, so the lack of food and equipment went on forgiven and forgotten.   
The group was spread around the living room, lying comfortably across the large furniture, asleep. Norman and Sean slept on either side of a couch (set against a wall facing an old TV and cabinet which flanked another couch sitting in either corner), with legs draped side by side across the sofa. Daryl and Merle each sat in a personal arm chair \, side by side, facing the small, empty fireplace with their feet up, while Connor slept taking up a whole couch to himself. Murphy had been kicked off the couch by Connor in his sleep sometime last night and hadn’t even bothered to wake up; he just rolled closer to the couch and continued to snore quietly on the carpet below.   
As the sun came up an hour later everyone slowly started to wake up with it. Connor was the first to wake up and he laughed when he found his brother curled into himself on the floor below him. Kicking him in the back of the head, he woke up his younger brother and was pulled to the floor into a playful wrestling match. The fight woke Daryl, who did nothing, as he just sat and watched the twins fight amongst themselves on the floor, looking amused at the mornings’ entertainment. Sean was the next to wake up about ten minutes later, just in time to see Murphy get the upper hand and pin his older half to the floor. Murphy laughed in his brother’s face, boasted that he had won, stood, and turned to walk away, when Connor tripped him from behind and he hit the floor with a loud thud. This not only woke Norman, but also began another fight that lasted longer than the first. Merle stirred in his chair, but continued to sleep as the fight renewed.   
“I’ve got Murphy,” stated Sean a minute later, looking over to Daryl who was leaning forward in his chair to watch the fight as it continued.  
“You’re on,” Daryl replied with a nod and, turning back to the tussling on the floor, Sean reached over and the two touched fists to acknowledge the agreement.  
“What are we betting on,” Norman asked aloud.  
The two currently in a bet looked at each other for a second then Sean looked at Norman, his expression slightly shy. “I’ve been hiding a chocolate bar in my bag.”  
“You did what,” Norman hissed through clenched teeth. Not even mildly amused.  
“I’ve been saving it and just haven’t gotten around to eating it yet. We can use it,” Sean suggested, smiling at Norman’s reaction.   
Another loud thud came from across the room as the twins rolled into a cabinet.   
Now Merle was awake. “What the hell is going on? What’s with all the noise?”  
“Connor and Murphy are wrestlin’ and we’re takin’ bets for a candy bar,” Daryl informed his brother in a hushed tone as not to disrupt the fight. He watched as Murphy threw a punch hitting his brother squarely in the chest and then the brothers continued, rolling away from the cabinet.   
“Oh alrigh’……I’ve got Murphy,” Merle stated after a pause for a few seconds of consideration. Then he leaned forward in his chair, mirroring his little brother, to start watching the fight.  
“Norman,” Daryl asked, turning his face without shifting his eyes from the scraping to ask for Norman’s input.  
“Alright, I’ve got Connor,” he replied and they both turned back to watch the fight continue.   
“Nice,” Sean praised and the two bumped fists. The Dixon’s did the same and the group continued to look on in silence until the fight ended about twelve minutes later.   
Twelve minutes later and Murphy was leaning over his brother trying to pin him yet again. Then suddenly, Connor was able to move his leg and kicked his brother in the stomach. Then he was able to flip the two and he pinned his brother, trapping him so he couldn’t move an inch.  
After a few seconds of struggling Murphy realized he couldn’t move to escape the hold. “Get off, alrigh’ ye won,” Murphy screamed in his brothers’ face. “Get off!”   
Connor released his brother with a smile on his face and climbed back on the couch to sit, his brother doing the same. They were tired and sweaty from the fighting and Murphy was especially winded from that last winning blow to the abdomen.  
A few seconds later, after the twins regained themselves, they looked over to the rest of the members of the group who they now saw were awake.  
Sean stood and walked over to the pile of bags by the front door. He returned shortly and dropped the only slightly melted candy in Norman’s lap, looking extremely displeased, and sat back down beside him. Merle had seen the fight end and chose to roll over and go back to sleep, no longer interested. Norman opened the large candy bar and carefully broke it into thirds, rising, and taking a few short steps to hand Daryl six small bars of chocolate, smiling. Daryl took it happily and the two slapped hands before Norman turned and walked over to hand Connor six small pieces of his own as well, before sitting back down by Sean. Connor took it gladly, though he looked slightly confused.   
“What’s this for,” he asked, holding up a small piece of candy before placing the piece on his tongue and melting himself at the taste.  
“We took bets to see who would win the fight,” Daryl answered, looking pleased as he ate the prize greedily.   
“I thought you deserved some for winning,” Norman continued as he took another small bite, trying to savor what little he had. None of them thought they would ever have something this sweet again and they were more than happy to be eating it.   
“You took bets on us,” Murphy asked curiously. They had each been so consumed in their childish tussle that neither twin had been aware of the conversation that took place just above their heads  
“Yeah, Merle and I lost,” Sean stated, still looking upset. Then he looked to the slightly older of the two and declared, “I think you cheated.”

XXXXXXX

That night the group found themselves sitting in the same positions after dinner that they had started the day in, and they were so full they could hardly move.   
During the day, Daryl, Merle and Norman had snuck out of the house for a quick hunt and brought home a buck for that night’s dinner. Now the buck was over halfway stripped of meat and all the meat was eaten. So now the group sat in the darkened house, recovering from their feast. They were spread comfortably across the furniture, some with blankets and some with cigarettes, and a small flashlight was shining in the center of their circle to give the group a bit of light.   
The group had woken up together and they had spent most of the day together as a group (as they had done for a few weeks now). As each man in the group looked around the circle at each of his newly found companions, at some point during that night, they all began to have the same sort of thought, ‘We’re going to be alright’.  
Around midnight Sean dropped off to sleep, followed shortly by Merle. The group had just spent the last couple of hours talking on and off, as they had the whole day, and now they were all worn out. Daryl got up from his chair and turned off the bright flashlight after realizing the group was beginning to fall asleep.   
There were a few whispers of a conversation with the remaining conscience members of the group for another twenty minutes in the darkened room. Then, as the conversation died off, the rest of the group slowly began to fall, one by one, into a deep sleep. The dark house grew quiet and then began to fill with the sound of soft snoring.   
Tomorrow the group would pack up and leave the small house. They would go farther back into the town to gather some extra food and get more fuel for the car, and then they would continue on their path to the coast, hoping to find another house like the one they were currently staying in to settle down in for the long haul. But for tonight, the group slept peacefully, content on where they were and the people they were sharing the house with. The group would awaken in a few hours, fully rested and ready to take on the day.   
And in that moment, before each man had fallen asleep that night, they truly believed that everything was going to be okay.


End file.
